Spoofs & SatireAug 7, 2008

Save Bubekhar

The world over, do-gooders are doing it for the greater good. But when carp gods and tight blouses mingle, discord looms.

Dear Save Bubekhar Foundation:

The coat-check girl at my club, a lovely creature named Lucy, showed me your advertisement in the weekend edition. As I often tell Lucy, men of my background have an onus to provide public assistance for the greater good. It’s hard to believe that for such a small fee, I can support a Bubekharian family for one full year. Instead I’ve enclosed a check for $1,000. I intend to include your admirable pursuit during a speech I am giving at the club this weekend. For the greater good, this cause must be publicized! Please acknowledge receipt of this check.

Regards,
Emory Holloway

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Dear Mr. Holloway:

Thank you for your donation—enough to support an entire Bubekharian village for a year! We have chosen a village formerly named Camaquan (now Hollowayville, a tribute to you in your pursuit of the greater good). It is a small, peaceful fishing village on the southern end of the eastern shore. For 400 years the people of Hollowayville have existed on spear-fishing the local Bubekharian carp. As such they worship the Carp God, just one of many intriguing anecdotes about this tribe. I have included pictures and various notes of thanks from the village elders. A celebration is being held in your honor this evening.

My name is Chester Shibalance, a member of the same club as Emory Holloway. Holloway was shooting off Saturday on his latest philanthropic endeavor. In spite of being a boozehound—and because I’m no gossip I won’t mention the filthy suggestion he recently offered a coat-check girl—Holloway got me thinking. This Bubekhar seems a worthy cause and I’d like to do my part for the greater good. I’ve enclosed a check for $3,000, enough for a village larger than Holloway’s. (Best keep my people on the far shore away from his heathens!) I’m thinking Cape Shibalance sounds nice. I ran it by the coat-check girl, Lucy, who seemed impressed by the name.

Regards,
Chester Shibalance

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Dear Mr. Shibalance:

Cape Shibalance (Noodka Palos for the past 400 years) is a peaceful people located on the northern end of the eastern shore of Bubekhar, a village that specializes in mangos and cattle herding. As such they worship the Cow God, just one of many lovely details of this tribe. Your donation will not only feed the villagers for a year, it will also purchase new shelter and 14 head of cattle. I have included pictures and various notes of thanks from the village elders. A celebration is being held in your honor this evening.

A patriot of the greater good,
Mimsy Johnson

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Dear Ms. Johnson:

It was recently explained to me by Lucy that another member of my club has approached your organization with a donation. I’m glad my speech influenced others to pony up—others who would not have done so of their own will. However, please do not confuse Shibalance and I as allies in this pursuit. I don’t mind sharing with you my low regard for this man. He comes from dirty money. And he is a habitual womanizer currently making advances toward a protégé of mine, a mere child of 18 who might be swayed by a man of Shibalance’s means. Consider this note fair warning as to your donor’s character.

Regards,
Emory Holloway

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Dear Save Bubekhar Foundation:

I belong to a club that shares its membership with two of your organization’s donors, Mr. Emory Holloway and Mr. Chester Shibalance. It occurred to me recently that your agency might be headed for trouble when I overheard the two arguing who is the better philanthropist. I assure you they are the worst of enemies and will go to any length to smear, cajole, and defeat one another—whether the sport is golf, or women, or in your case, Third World villages. One story I don’t mind sharing: For months the two have been badgering a poor coat-check girl with all the—how shall I put this?—attributes wilted men like that might adore (see enclosed pictures). Enclosed is a check for $10,000 which I am donating on behalf of my church, Our Weeping Lady of Righteousness. Please use this to inoculate the children, minister to the sick, and spread the word of Jesus Christ through the use of Catholic relief workers.

Yours in Faith,
Roger Tintabaum

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Dear Mr. Tintabaum:

Please share our esteemed thanks with your congregation. We have used your generous donation to set up Hospital Tintabaum, which is central to the island so surrounding villagers can come for food and medicine. Although Catholic workers have been placed in charge, understand that the people of Bubekhar have prayed to their various gods for hundreds of years and are not likely to be swayed by Western canons.

A patriot of the greater good,
Mimsy Johnson

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Dear Ms. Johnson:

Enclosed is a check for $11,000. I hope it can go some way toward keeping Tintabaum and his damned self-righteousness clear of my village. My people are fishermen who worship the Carp God, an aspect I appreciate about Hollowayville and one I’ve circulated liberally amongst my club peers. (By my suggestion, the club now serves carp twice a week!) Tintabaum puts a room to sleep upon entrance, always passing himself off as holier-than-thou and judging our leisurely pursuits. He’s brainwashed the poor coat-check girl Lucy, so that every time she smiles or wears a tight-fitting gown, or shares a nightcap at the bar, or accepts a small donation for her college education—Tintabaum lifts an eyelid, insinuating his God is watching. Your consideration is essential, Ms. Johnson. I’m sure you understand my position is aligned with the greater good.

Regards,
Emory Holloway

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Dear Mr. Holloway:

It is with much regret I inform you that over one-quarter of Hollowayville’s villagers have fallen ill. Initial reports lead us to believe the villagers ate carp polluted from a source upriver. Many have died; many more are expected to (see enclosed pictures). As such we had to use your latest donation to pay bills at Hospital Tintabaum.

Heartfelt and hopeful,
Mimsy Johnson

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Dear Ms. Johnson:

It’s those damn heifers from Cape Shibalance! All that excrement flowed downriver to Hollowayville—and now I’m on the hook to Tintabaum for medical bills! I’m the boob of the club, damn it! I am enclosing a check for $12,000. Please arm the people of Hollowayville accordingly so they can defend the way of life they have enjoyed for hundreds of years.

Impatiently seeking the greater good,
Emory Holloway

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Dear Ms. Johnson:

Oh, to hear it from Holloway’s crooked mouth! There at the bar, suckling down scotch, bawling to Lucy about all those sick Hollowayvillians, all the dead carp. I’m chuckling over it as of this writing. Imagine, all those fish choking on cow droppings—cows that I purchased! It’s too good. Lucy and I have been cracking up over it all week—and you haven’t lived until you’ve seen sweet Lucy emit the cutest snort as her firm bosom bounces in a lavishly tight blouse, one I donated to her wardrobe (see enclosed pictures). Also please find an extra $15,000 enclosed. I know you’ll do right with these funds.

Pleasantly beside myself,
Chester Shibalance

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Dear. Mr. Shibalance:

I’ve just learned Cape Shibalance was attacked last week by a nearby village. Several cattle were beheaded along with many men who attempted to defend the sacred heifers (see enclosed pictures). As I’m sure you would advise, we used your last donation to rebuild the village and pay bills at Hospital Tintabaum. That still leaves a debt of $16,000 for burial in accordance with your people’s beliefs. However, Hospital Tintabaum has offered to bury them for free according to Christian rites.

Tragically,
Mimsy Johnson

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Dear Ms. Johnson:

The people of Cape Shibalance have long worshipped the Cow God, and they will be buried according to those rituals. Tintabaum would just love to see their spirituality deflowered, to be sure. Enclosed find a check for $25,000. Please note the extra funds, which will be used to arm my people in case of another uprising. I think, Ms. Johnson, you and I know very well those gorillas from Hollowayville are responsible for this massacre. I overheard Holloway having a good laugh about it with Lucy the other night over a carp dinner at the club.

In mourning,
Chester Shibalance

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Dear Mr. Holloway:

I’m sure by now you’ve seen the television news. Obviously, things have gone afoul once the U.N. Security Council gets involved. Though I do not know the inner workings of your club, I have noticed that every time the coat-check girl spends a few moments alone with Mr. Shibalance, we receive reports that Cape Shibalance was attacked by ax-wielding maniacs. Likewise, whenever she spends a moment south of your chin, we receive word that the people of Hollowayville ran screeching into the trees. Do you realize that, prior to either of your involvement, the villages of Bubekhar enjoyed hundreds of years of peace? I am making no allegations, but I’m sure you can understand why I must relay the decision of the Save Bubekhar Foundation to no longer accept donations from either of you.

Our prayers are not enough,
Mimsy Johnson

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Dear Madame Chairwoman:

Outraged and outrageous! That describes both my mood and the insinuations of your last correspondence. It seems to me the only reason you are issuing accusations is to steer attention away from what is really occurring—namely, a religious crusade! That’s right, Ms. Johnson—I know all about how Tintabaum is converting Bubekharians to Christianity. From what I’ve overhead from Lucy, he’s converted at least 14 villages from Hollowayville clear up to the northern territories. That’s all Tintabaum wants you know—to spread Christianity and brag about it during club affairs to Lucy and the other members. What kind of organization, Ms. Johnson, condones such religious bias? I stand for integrity. I stand for freedom of religion, even if that religion should include worship of a cow, or a carp. As such you’ve left me no choice. I intend to align myself with my sworn enemy, Chester Shibalance. Be sorry you ever crossed me, wicked woman.

To the death,
Emory Holloway

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Dear Madame Chairwoman:

It is with sadness I heard from my former adversary that you have taken the side of Tintabaum, a known religious fanatic, in our dispute over the territories. And I am appalled you would insinuate a sexual tryst between Holloway, myself, and Lucy, whom we only seek to advise on how to live a straight and moral life. Damn you, Madame Chairwoman! Damn you and your conjectures to hell! Not only does Tintabaum wield the word of God to bend men to his thinking. He is secretly providing funds to Lucy to secure an abortion—the fetus of which he is responsible for quickening with his nauseous seed (see enclosed pictures). I know this because Holloway and I got her drunk the other night (see enclosed pictures)—and only to loosen her lips as to Tintabaum’s sordid character. Although we have had our differences, Holloway and I both care for Lucy the way we would care for any 18-year-old with a taut body and an uncanny sexual curiosity that barely legal young ladies often display in regards to bisexuality and trisexuality and threesomes and foursomes and moresomes (see enclosed pictures). Not that Holloway or I, both happily married, are interested in such proclivities. Certainly not! But because these attributes are what might lead a young woman off the straight path, and get her involved with a disreputable fellow like Tintabaum. With that said, Holloway and I have armed Cape Shibalance to the teeth (see enclosed pictures). To the teeth, I tell you! (See enclosed pictures.) Any relief workers trying to advance the crusades into the northern territories will meet with certain death, their bodies impaled on spears (see enclosed pictures) that I had Holloway FedEx to Bubekhar yesterday. The gauntlet has been thrown down, Madame Chairwoman, and Holloway and I are up to the challenge.

Death to the infidels,
Chester Shibalance

P.S. If your secretary would be so kind, I require a receipt from your organization for tax purposes.

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Dear Ms. Johnson:

At midnight the day prior, Cape Shibalance fell to my advancing armies. Thousands have been converted and the spiritual identity of Bubekharians updated to 21st-century standards. As you might recall, I donated the initial funds out of kindness, wanting nothing in return but to know I was advancing the greater good. Now that the greater good has been achieved, I was hoping to get something in return. I sent delegates to meet with the elder tribesmen, all of whom agreed to annex 2,000 square miles of beachfront property to me. I will preside over New Tintabaum with Lucy, who has turned to me in her time of youthful anxiety for guidance.

Please accept this letter of resignation. Although the images on the television, and the international backlash that has ensued, are difficult to argue with, imperialism was never the goal of my post. I take no pride in the hotel resorts being erected along the eastern shoreline. I take no zeal that the land leased to the mining and oil companies will soon be discarded of its minerals. I only hoped to provide the necessities—shelter, food, healthcare—and to see that the greater good was achieved. In certain ways I believe I met my goals, as do many of our non-profit peers. Which is why I have been asked to join the Save Meka-Meka Foundation, which supports a peaceful people in the tropical region of the French West Indies who are in need of healthcare and modernization (see enclosed pictures). Due to personal and professional reasons, I shall provide no forwarding address.